Song of the Pizzamancer

So, a few days ago, after getting a little puzzled on brown liquor, I posted this tweet.

This, I felt, was a good idea.

I like pizza.  I like wizards.  How could this possibly not end well?

Hence, I was very pleased when reader Heather sent me the following (warning: awesomeness contained within).

Ask and ye shall receive my writing warm-up for the day:

The Wizard Who Used His Magic to Make Pizza

The Great Wizards’ War of this age started the day Alfred got fed up with kids carving rude things into the beautiful pieced wood tabletops at his pizza parlor.  He had spent the entire lunch hour polishing the counter and glowering at a ragged young man, afflicting him with rashes, odd aches and pains, and even hallucinations, but still the kid worked away with his Swiss Army knife.  His masterpiece of rebellion read, ”FUCK the man.”
Alfred rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath.  ”If you must graffiti my tables, at least you could find something witty to say kid.”
How had he come to a state in his life where his greatest enemy was a kid with nothing better to do than deface pizza parlor tables?  He needed a distraction.
He rolled out the dough and glazed it with olive oil.  He piled cheese on top, pinching it so it hugged the edges of the crust without falling off.  Smiling with satisfaction, he piled on peppers, sausage, anchovies, olives, espresso dust, grapes, and piety.  He poked at the fire until it was hot and slid the pizza into the oven without spilling a single topping.
He then returned to polishing the counter-top and glaring at the young would-be revolutionary.
Three minutes later, the pizza was done–crust golden brown, cheese popping in little bubbles.  As Alfred pulled it out of the oven, a cloaked man with a creased face banged through the front door.
”Why did you do it?” the man demanded.
”Good to see you too, Simon.”  Alfred sliced the pizza, flipping a piece onto a paper plate that buckled under its weight as he offered it to the newcomer.  Simon waved away the slice.
”Don’t act like nothing happened, Alfred.  The coven in Rome is gone–all dead.”
”Oh?”  Alfred continued holding the slice.
”Just now.  I came straight here.  You can put that down, I’m not here for pizza.”
Alfred gently set the piece aside and returned to polishing the already pristine counter.
”It looked like your work.  Only you can cause such destruction with so little mess.”
”So your only evidence is a complete lack of evidence?”  Alfred raised an eyebrow, peering at Simon for a long minute.  ”You look wretched.  Sit down, have some pizza.”
”I didn’t come here for your _pizza_.”  Somehow he made the word sound like an insult and Alfred bristled, but Simon charged onward, heedless.  ”Dammit Alfred, we’re supposed to be at peace.  You can’t just go killing an entire coven.”
”Simon, I make pizza.  That’s what I do now.  If you cannot appreciate the joys of molten cheese hugging juicy vegetables and savory meats atop chewy crusts then I suggest you find another establishment.”
”You suggest _I_ find another establishment?  What are _you_ even doing in this backwater?  Do you know there’s a truck in the parking lot with six deer legs sticking out of the bed?”
”Do you object to the number of legs, or the thought of killing deer?  I would find the second quite ironic given your history.”
”You know what I mean.  This place is so far beneath you.”
Alfred made a sound of warning, like water about to boil.  The pizza server rattled on the counter and Simon took a step back, eyes wide.  The two men stood for a moment, locked in a staring contest, but just as it seemed the situation must boil over, Alfred looked away, voice snapping like ice, ”Boy, if you don’t stop engraving your insipid protest on my table and eat your fucking pizza this minute, I will incinerate you.”
The boy looked up, startled, and quickly folded his knife, shoving it into his pocket.  He picked up a slice of his pepperoni and mushroom pizza and took an exaggerated bite, sighing with relief when Alfred finally looked away.
”Now!” Simon jumped as Alfred’s attention returned to him.  ”You come to my place of business…”
He grabbed a ball of dough and began pounding out the bubbles.
”…you accuse me of murder without any evidence…”
He seized a rolling pin and attacked the dough with it.
”…and you insult my profession.”
He tossed the dough in the air, flour raining down on them both as the dough snapped.
”I think you owe me an apology.”
He arranged the dough on a tray, gestures gentle just for a moment as he pinched and pushed the dough into a perfect circle.  As he slathered barbecue sauce onto the waiting crust, he looked up expectantly.
”I’m sorry, Alfred.  I shouldn’t have done those things,” Simon muttered.
Alfred nodded.  He began piling cheese on the crust, pinching it around the edges as he had done before.
”But you did do it, didn’t you?  It felt like your work,” Simon persisted in a voice that now held more curiosity than accusation.
The corners of Alfred’s mouth twitched.  ”Does it matter?  Are you really so disappointed that it was done?  I had the impression that the Roman coven had been a mighty pain in your ass for a long time.”
Alfred began layering toppings on the pizza: ham, pineapple, coconut, macadamia nuts, ash, sunshine, and sea salt scented nights.
”That’s an unusual combination of toppings,” Simon commented.
”I hear the Hawaiian coven has been giving you trouble too,” Alfred tossed the comment over his shoulder as he slid the pizza into the oven, prodding the flames to life.
Simon stood, watching as the pizza baked–tropical toppings melting together into a sea of cheese–and then looked back at the slice Alfred had offered him earlier, covered in Italian toppings now congealing as the cheese cooled.
”Alfred, no.  You can’t.   Not two covens in one day!”
Alfred grinned and clapped Simon on the shoulder saying, ”Relax my friend, it’s just a pizza!”
As Simon rushed out to check on the Hawaiian coven, Alfred chuckled and returned to polishing his counter.  When the kid left, he ordered the wood to mend so that no scar remained.

Sweet Jesus.

I can’t say I ever do not go into a frothing spiel of lunacy when fans send me cool stuff.  And it was very much the case today when Heather sent me her Pizza Wizard fan fiction.  I am so immensely thrilled by this.

So thrilled.

And so hungry.

Keep writing.